


In The Bleak Midwinter

by spfuzz



Series: Three Loves, Four Seasons [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Other, Polar Night, Post-Canon, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spfuzz/pseuds/spfuzz
Summary: Zuko goes south for the longest night of the year.
Relationships: Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Three Loves, Four Seasons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731352
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35





	1. Frosty Wind Made Moan

“Run this by me again, Dr. Makmuri.” Fire Lord Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
“Yes, Your Maj – er, sir,” the ship’s doctor replies. The wind outside on deck howled through an open porthole, and Makmuri shivered.

Zuko sighed. He’d been in the Capitol too long. He never forgot his roots, but too many sailors and officers were too young to remember that Prince Zuko was not only a fully-qualified flag officer, but preferred to _only_ be a naval officer behind the mast. Hell, he'd try to pretend he was an able-bodied seaman if the scar wasn't so obvious. Oh well. That’s why this cruise _had_ younger officers – Zuko needed sailors who hadn’t learned loyalty (or obligation) to this or that general or prince. Not for this voyage.  
  
Dr. Makmuri fidgeted. Iroh had heard of the young doctor and natural philosopher from Lady Mai - apparently they were sparring partners and Makmuri would patch her up after bad fights with Azula - and had asked for him specifically, to serve as ship's surgeon for “a summer cruise for the Fire Lord.” Dr. Makmuri expected a nice, easy cruise to Ember Island on a big, steam-powered battleship, possibly sewing up the Fire Lord or his famously-bladed fiancee after practice.

He did not expect a young man, dressed in a sailor's dungarees and an officer's reefer jacket that was surely older than he was with twin dao blades, a rucksack, and his own sea chest, the only sign of his station the three Kyoshi Warriors behind and beside him and his famous scar. He did not expect the young man to bring a crew of pleasant, taciturn, but hard-faced officers - all veterans, but all too young to have service records close to any of Ozai's creatures. He did not expect a small cruiser, well-built but with few arms, no gilt trim, and no ensigns beside the Fire Merchant Marine jack. He certainly did not expect the young man to take regular shifts on the bridge and at the helm and _ask so many questions_.

Makmuri spoke slowly, “Because the world is tilted, the Light of Agni hits different places with varying levels of intensity through the course of the year. Depending on the –”  
  
“Yes, latitude affects the amount of sunlight present, and thereby our bending,” Zuko replied hastily. “But you’re telling me the South Pole will be dark _all day?”_

Makmuri nods. The Fire Lord has been an expert celestial navigator, marking their course south with little help from him, but he’s young, and despite having seen so much of the world, he has yet to see a polar night.  
  
“Yes, sir. It has been for about two and a half months now – what we would consider the summer solstice is their last day of three months of non-stop night.”

Zuko shakes his head. He hadn’t met Katara, Sokka, and Aang in the southern winter, and all his lessons in astronomy had eschewed the living practices of barbarians. _Another crime Sozin and Azulon had to answer for._ The idea that Katara and Sokka grew up spending a quarter of their lives in absolute darkness was disturbing.

The idea that his friends would willingly _stay_ in that darkness for _months_ , when the royal bungalows at Ember Island were open for the asking over the summer, was bewildering.  
  
 _“Love, I have to be down there,” Katara sai_ _d that night she told him she had to leave._ _“This will be the first full winter a lot of the new waterbenders and warriors remember, and they’ll need elders to support them through it. Sokka and I know how to hunt. Aang will follow in a month after he's done settling the sky bison herd near Yu Dao. He can bend fire well enough to help with light and heat. We lived this way in the years of the war, we’ll be fine for a while_.”  
  


Zuko had kissed her almost violently then, hoping to erase his own guilty memories of Fire Nation ships bringing smoke and pain to a population that had to live hand-to-mouth during the worst of his father’s rule.

“Sir? Hello?” Courtiers would see the Fire Lord go elsewhere and cough gently. Makmuri was a peasant’s son, half Earth Kingdom, and not discreet.

Zuko blinked the memory back, looked back at him. “And the ship’s been prepared for that? Is there anything we can do for the Wat – the crew?”

“Yes, sir. Captain Jee and Gensui Prince Iroh were very clear. We’ve got supplies for the crew and some goods for the city for at least two weeks, and the benders on crew can provide freshwater or heat as needed, as well as a triple portion of dried vegetables, rice and soy.”

The Fire Lord nodded, distracted. Makmuri took the chance to examine his monarch, patient, and commander. The young man was nervous, and his slip now was not nearly the first he’d had on the voyage. Zuko had caught himself asking about the Avatar, about Sifu Katara, channeling those questions into the good and welfare of his crew. Zuko was a firm, fair commander, an excellent sparring partner, but _did_ have a tendency to get distracted.

When the Prince Regent had sat with Makmuri and offered him the job, he’d seemed stern, less the jovial old man than the iron-willed Dragon of the West.

_“Doctor,” Iroh had said, “My nephew’s trip is, of course, sensitive. I will rely on your insight and contacts with the Water Tribe to bring us information about what’s needed that Zuko may miss. He is young, and the crown is heavy. You need not hide any of your insights from him, but understand that you must be able to see what will not be shown to him – and what he may not show others.”_   
  
_“Your Grace, I’m afraid I don’t understand that last sentence?” Makmuri was puzzled._   
  
_Iroh sighed, sipped at his sake, and shifted his weight. “Zuko became Fire Lord in his own right beyond my regency at twenty-one and has served three years since. That is burden enough. He is also one of the Nine Immortals rebuilding the world my brother nearly finished destroying. He is learning about himself and our nation at the same time he is learning about the world and our failure to cherish it. He is not from a family that teaches stillness, that encourages patience or healing. While you are mending his body and minding our business, you may have to mend his soul as well."_   
  
_Lady Mai, not yet Zuko's wife but already his spymaster, snorted. "What Prince Iroh is saying is that you may be taking notes while the Fire Lord is gallivanting and playing igloo with the Avatar. He's been climbing the walls."_

_Gallivant...OH_. Makmuri put it all together. The Fire Lord sailing to the South Pole with a skeleton crew of sailors he can trust in an unmarked ship with a hold full of fruits and vegetables, asking about Water Tribe needs and customs. While Makmuri may be on His Majesty's Secret Service, Zuko needed him to keep other secrets on this trip.

“Zuko…” Makmuri said tentatively, “they’ll be happy to see you. And not a man jack on this ship would have anything to say about it.”

Zuko turned to look at him full in the face. “Uncle said you were smart. He didn’t say how smart.” Zuko squared his shoulders, unsure what to do next.

Makmuri breathed in. _Please don’t let me die for this_.

“I daresay the ship's supplies – and your presence – will be welcome gifts for the Avatar and Sifu Katara's family.”  
  
Zuko relaxed. _Uncle is wiser than I thought_. He had been impatient and antsy as spring gave way to summer. Iroh had suggested an off-book diplomatic tour, starting in the South – no pomp, just Zuko having private conversations with their friends and some leaders, reliant on his own bending, with a handful of trusted sailors, just like the first voyage that made his name. Mai had offered a ship’s doctor, a scientist and natural philosopher to watch his back. The Fire Lord’s consort was always a trusted advisor, but Mai had taken to espionage with relish. Makmuri, deceptively bumbling but a dab hand with a blade, would extend the Fire Nation and White Lotus’s contacts everywhere.

 _Mai_. Zuko’s heart swelled at the thought. After a lifetime together, Zuko still wasn't sure how his betrothed felt about this all the time, but knowing that Mai _sent him south_ to see Aang and Katara brought a new smile of gratitude.

Zuko looked at Makmuri, who was patiently reviewing the maps before them.

After a long pause, Zuko spoke.  
  
“I assume you know I’ll be staying ashore, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between the Fire Nation having Imperial Japan vibes and Zuko's canon multi-year voyage around the world, I was really feeling Master and Commander vibes. "Makmuri" is a name adopted by ethnic Chinese in Indonesia. Because of the extant Southeast Asian aesthetic in parts of the Fire Nation and the use of Chinese names ("there's plenty of Lees!") I figured I'd nod back - maybe a Fire Nation Mak changed their name to Makmuri to distance themselves from the colonizer side of their family! Also, it has three syllables, just like "Maturin." I really like callbacks and nods.


	2. What Can I Give Him, Poor As I Am?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara, Sokka, Suki, and lessons in comparative anthropology.

Katara breathed out. Her crew of trainees bent the fresh water out of the beached canoe and into the gourds laid out in neat lines. Three trainees laid ivory scrapers to the cold salt left in the canoe to lay in the stores. Aang was running behind, and they had to salt extra fish. Katara hadn’t wanted to ask Zuko for firebenders to dry and smoke for supplies.

He would have jumped – reparations was always near the top or the front of his minds. She couldn’t let him, though. There had been whispers about “Air Lord Zuko” or “Iroh, the Kappa of the South” from older bureaucrats and angry dead-enders in the army and navy. Iroh was always the picture of jovial reconciliation, and Aang and Ursa always preached forgiveness. Katara adored Aang, and would never disagree with the Lady Dowager publicly, but she preferred Mai’s approach.

Mai had given Zuko 108 plotters as a betrothal present, all pensioned out of royal service or who’d left their wealth and the properties to the Dragon Throne before retiring to monastic life, exile abroad, or regaining their families’ honor at the point of a sword.

She and Aang had to leave after that.

It made sense. Zuko would need time with Mai.

 _With his wife-to-be,_ Katara thought, her mouth twisting. Mai was good for him – not just politically, but personally. For standing at the heights of absolute power over a quarter of the world, Zuko was still hungry for love and uncertain about his place in the world now that he’d “achieved his destiny.” He needed someone sharp enough to see his needs, hard enough to hold his slides toward self-pity, and ruthless in defending his interests. An old friend and governor’s daughter with a taste for blade work who was loyal enough to frog-march her own father into a cell for treason was absolutely perfect as a Fire Lady.

 _In a way that neither of us can be._ Katara sighed again, nodding at her apprentices. They carried their whale-oil lamps carefully, though there was no wind off the sea. Then trudged back to town, their steps crunching the ice in almost military rhythm. The close-order drill of warriors and benders wasn’t strictly _traditional_ , but Sokka had insisted on having units train to work, fight, hunt, and fish as groups. Iroh and Piandao had explained the _tuntian_ system, where Fire Nation soldiers had farmed, trained, and built together, which Earth Kingdom states had picked up as ways to run off bandits. Every boat could range as far as Kyoshi or the mainland and fight off the former Fire Nation pirates who tried to continue preying on shipping after Zuko demobilized the fleets.

Letters of marque and reprisal didn’t count as charity – Hakoda sent traitor’s heads and stolen Fire Navy materiel north with shipments of flavorful salmon and haddock and crab. Zuko sent down raw metals from scrapped war machines, warm-weather plants and delicacies like chocolate and coffee, and gold and silver bullion, along with copies of old astronavigation texts and letters from Iroh wondering about the shared heritage of Water Tribe and Fire Nation seafarers.

There would never again be any Southern Raiders. Both agreed grimly (and silently) on that.

The sky was clear, the cold fires of the Southern Cross the only lights above a procession of lanterns. Katara let her mind drift as the _crunch-crunch_ of marching feet drifted through the black night, not even Yue present to hear. To her left, a familiar wolftail bounced on a newly-shaven head next to a giggling green parka. Sokka and Suki, crunching in time with the hunters, ambled over.

“Put up your hood, Sokka, you’ll catch cold!” Katara said, the reprimand clouding the air before her.

Sokka pulled the fur-lined hood over his head. “I was explaining the hair-thing to Suki!”

The Kyoshi Warrior, on leave from the Fire Nation, smiled apologetically, “Katara, I promise I won’t get him sick. I was curious about what the men’s styles mean, though!”  
  
Katara nodded. “He hasn’t told you? Well, the wolf-tail is generally used for warrior who isn’t attached yet – hence, the wolf thing. If he gets married, he can grow out the back and sides like Pakku or our dad.”

Suki hummed thoughtfully. “It’s so strange that so many cultures see a full head of hair as a sign of adulthood. Remember how Zuko had that topknot, then cut his hair clean off?”

Sokka laughed “And then he cut it short again when he went to find Ursa, then grew it out again!”

Katara smiled, “I remember. He still had it a bit short when I left, though.” He had been so angry at the second uprising that he had cut his hair, saying, “If they don’t want me to be their Fire Lord, I’ll be damned if I look the part!” She and Aang had held him for hours after. It never felt like enough. Zuko was also so restless, so anxious, always flashing to and fro, like –

 _Like a fire_. Katara’s heart twisted. _Is it always going to be like this? Zuko dragged to the throne, Aang to the spirits, and me to the Tribe?_

A gentle scape to the side gave her a start. Suki and Sokka were looking at her oddly.

“Sis...you okay?” Sokka asked, unexpectedly gentle.

Katara shook her head.”Fur-scraping,” she said quickly.

Suki cocked her head. “Huh?”  
  
Sokka said, “You know when you’re scraping leather or fur clean for something, and you just get so into it that you lose track of time thinking?”  
  
Suki’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Woolgathering!”  
  
Katara laughed, grateful for the out. “Yeah, but we don’t have that many sheep here.” 

Suki’s eyes crinkled under her Kyoshi makeup. “We don’t really wear wool, either, but it’s an expression brought over from the Earth Kingdom before Kyoshi killed Chin and broke the Island off. It’s weird how our cultures have so many expressions in common, even if they’re cultural or linguistically different.”  
  
_Not the Fire Nation_ Katara thought, and her lips quirked down again.  
  
It was Suki’s turn to be perceptive. “Hey. I know you’re glad we’re here, but...is it Aang?”

Katara smiled. _How in the world do they keep missing it?_ “Yeah, spirits know we could use a bender for some heat and light.”

Sokka snorted. “Yeah, that’s the _only_ reason why you miss him.”

Katara punched her brother, “Only one thing on _your_ mind.”

Suki laughed, “Not that that’s not true, but it must be hard to face the dark like this without somebody – even just to hold.”

Sokka rubbed his shoulder good-naturedly. “Yeah, and with your birthday coming up –”

Suki squealed, shocking some of the younger marchers. “Your BIRTHDAY?! Sokka’s _never told me.”_

Katara nodded, a little irritated that Sokka had let it slip. “Yeah, we haven’t really used a calendar that long, but mom had me on the solstice – the last day of the full polar night.”

Sokka turned his nose up, saying “Hey, _nobody_ knew when their birthdays were before the war – we didn’t keep records like that. Katara is one of the first Water Tribers in the history of our people to know her actual birthday!”  
  
Suki, slack-jawed, closed her mouth and looked pensive. “That makes sense. Sunrises and sunsets are so chaotic so often, and it’s not like you would keep daily or hourly clocks here.”

Sokka nodded, “So that boyfriend of yours better be here for the solstice night, or so help me –”

“You gonna throw your boomerang at an airbender, honey? Try to stab him with your sword, Sokka _Starblade?”_ Katara and Suki chuckled. He could be such a big brother, as if they all hadn’t fought a war together.

“Hey, you may not have known about the solstice, but Aang does! And he knows that he should be here to be with Katara!”

The tension broken, the three of them approached the town, laughter matching the cheery light of whale-oil lights.

 _Yeah, Aang knows. And so does Zuko. And they aren’t here._ Katara thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Water Tribers don't have a tradition of tracking time down to days or hours is based on MuffinLance's "Salvage," specifically this passage from chapter 7 - 
> 
> "The Southern Water Tribe didn't traditionally bother with such fiddly measures as hours; most of their activities went by the seasons the moon brought. The season the ice receded and the seal-gulls pupped, the season the blue-dye berries grew and the ground was loose enough to dig roots, the season the salmon-trout ran and the orca-wolves joined their boats in the hunt. An Earth Kingdom hour was an inconsequential unit, when there were days or weeks of work to be had."


	3. If I Were A Wise Man, I Would Do My Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?"
> 
> Or: Aang gets some pointers from Other Memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about crossovers, but yes, that was Dune and Hamilton. Big Nerd Energy.

Aang landed at Kyoshi Island, sliding down Appa’s back onto the soft earth, surrounded by pines. He knew the Kyoshi Warriors had seen the sky bison. He also knew he wouldn’t be bothered. If he had wanted company, he’d have landed directly at Yokoya, or one of the smaller villages that dotted the island. Since the fall of Ozai and the growing web of reconciliation and reconstruction efforts, Kyoshi had presented a safe, neutral place for the Avatar and his companions – one without the ghosts of the Air Temples, the pomp and self-conscious meticulousness of a guilty Fire Nation or a reverent Earth Kingdom, but conveniently attached to an Avatar still maintained in popular memory.

It was still too far from Ba Sing Se for Kuei to exert much authority, or for traders to invest too much in Yokoya. Hakoda’s longboats – _well, Sokka’s now –_ valued it because of its history and proximity, but not much of the new world encroached.

Which is exactly how Aang liked it. There would be no acolytes needing advice, no Fire Sages seeking to expiate their crimes, and no memories of Gyatso and the monks. Just him, the forest, and a thousand past lives if the spirits moved him.

Worn out from a hard ride, Aang, Appa, and Momo slumped together for a moment. He had relished the solitude of the flight from the Fire Nation. There was something fresh and clean in the ocean air, in watching the fields and paddies fly beneath him. Just being above a world groping toward peace settled some of the disquiet in his own heart.

Training and feeding the sky bison herd had helped, too. Iroh had found some old scrolls on care and feeding and, coupled with Aang’s memories and some time with Yangchen, he had lassoed calves flying away for the first time, taught some of the younger bison how to take a saddle, and sheared some of the shaggier ones for the summer. The wool would likely come in handy for the winter in the South.

 _Katara_. Aang winced. They hadn’t parted well. She was just so...calm about what Mai had done to those Fire Nation rebels. Zuko had raged and wept and taken a blade to his hair, shearing it off.

“ _If they don’t want me as Fire Lord, then I’ll look the part!”_ And the next morning he had come to Mai, kissed her hands, and _thanked her for the gift for their union_. As if eighty-one dead was an appropriate wedding present! He had spent the night wrapped up between them and –

Appa grumbled. Aang must have felt tense against him. “Sorry, boy,” he whispered. Aang guessed he wouldn’t be getting any rest right then. He stood up, stroking Momo.

“Hey. I’m gonna go meditate. I’ll be right back.”

Aang found a rock beneath an older pine, conveniently placed so that his back was facing west. It was shaped to support a much longer set of legs folded together. Aang smiled in recognition. Kyoshi had earthbent this stone, had planted this tree. Aang folded himself into the lotus position, began breathing exercises, and waited.

Let go.

_Katara practicing bending katas underneath cherry blossoms, Zuko scattering millet to the turtleducks..._

Not now. Focus.

“ _Heaven is to be rent asunder, Earth shall fall away!” Toph cackled approvingly at Zuko’s overdone rendition of Romance of the Three Kingdoms._

_Mai took up another phrase: “Rather we let down the world than the world let us down!”_

She would play Cao Cao well; ruthless, bloodthirsty, ice-cold – wait, no, FOCUS.

_Zuko, crying, dropped the knife next to his severed topknot and crown. Aang’s arms around him, Katara close behind. Lips against tears giving way to lips against lips and skin against skin..._

STOP.

_The next day, Katara arguing, “Aang, they were going to try to kill him. Ozai alive, Azula keeping her bending, Ukano – nothing’s enough!”_

“ _You’re siding with Mai on this? She’s ruthless, she’s heartless, she doesn’t care for Zuko, she just wants to take him away from us and what we’re trying to –”  
  
“She just KILLED for him, how can you say that –”_

“ _Exactly! She’s a killer, and I can’t believe that you would –”_

“ _That I would_ _what , Aang?”_

“ARGH!” Aang screamed, just like he did at Katara in the memory.

“That’s a familiar feeling.”

Aang jumped. A tall woman in a green kimono and black lamellar armor stared down, a small smile on her painted lips.

“Kyoshi! What are you –”

“You sit on _my_ rock, under _my_ pine, on _my island_ , meditating about some Fire Nation girl and you think I won’t notice? Aang, _really_. _”_

Aang sighed. “Not _really_ about a Fire Nation girl.”

Kyoshi sat seiza on the ground before him, still a head taller than Aang but not neck-craningly so.

“A boy, then? I remember Rangi quite well but perhaps Roku might –”

Aang stuttered, “No, no, this is kinda about his great-grandson.”

Kyoshi hummed thoughtfully. “Later, then. And it seems like this is about more than just one nation or another.”  
  
Aang nodded. “I can’t believe that _any_ of them would be okay with what happened! I get why you were all telling me Ozai had to go but –”

Kyoshi replied, “But what? You thought that with the collapse of one tyrant, the world would fold itself into order, Aang? You know enough of my history from the Warriors. Xu Ping An and the Yellow Necks. Jianzhu. Chin the Conqueror. I killed and killed and killed to keep others from killing. Not just for balance, but _justice._ And I'd have covered myself in blood to protext Rangi, or to keep Yun from becoming the monster that walked out of that cave. You are to be credited with finding a way to neutralize Ozai without killing him, but did you really think that was going to last forever? Even Zuko was ready to put down his father if it meant peace.”

“But Zuko _kissed her_ _bloodstained_ _hands!_ He was with us the night before and cut off his knot and –“

“And you thought he was going to leave his throne, his people, his responsibilities, for you?” A man’s voice cut through, and Roku walked over to kneel next to Kyoshi.

“No – YES – no, not like that, it was just…”

“You did. You missed him. You missed the boy you saved the world with and you couldn't see him inside the ruler. The same way Ta Min and I missed Sozin when he became Fire Lord.”  
  
“It was like – wait, WHAT?” Aang’s less-than-carefully marshaled arguments crashed like a freight train coming off its tracks. “You and Ta Min and…”  
  
“Sozin was my best friend when we were young. We were lovers after Ta Min and I married. That’s the other reason I wouldn’t kill him. Of course, you wouldn’t know any of that, would you?”

Aang shook his head. “Sozin sealed off their history, and outlawed those kinds of relationships.”

Roku shook his head. “He needed happy homes breeding soldiers, I’m sure. And our history and Kyoshi’s likely made less traditional relationships seem...subversive, unnatural. The state was always an orderly family for him, and the Fire Lord our responsible father, hiding his own wild past from the rest of us.”

Aang looked down. “Then why is Zuko letting it continue?”  
  
Roku looked at Aang, “Do you know why they call the ruler of the Fire Nation _Lord_ , rather than _King_ , or _Emperor?_ ”

Aang shook his head. “Iroh said something about – circles, I think?”

Roku nodded. “The term was _mandala,_ which I’m sure Gyatso taught you with those designs. In the centuries before the nations’ borders were sharpened and the peoples’ were firmly defined, the Western archipelago and the lands around it were ruled by many lords and ladies. Waterbenders would hop across islands and the open ocean on great longboats, earthbending and airbending chieftains would demand tribute from their great temples and cities. Commoners would be stuck between great circles of influence, and at the center of each would be a god-king of sorts.

Now, as the firebenders came about looking for homes on the continent, or from over the sea, they would unite and fight off each of these kings or chiefs, but swore they’d never bow before a crown or a king or a priest again. The strongest among them were a tribe of black-haired, gold-eyed warrriors who claimed descent from the Sun Goddess and the Spirit of Fire. They ended up protecting others and teaching bending learned from the Dragons in their original homelands, and swore never to be called kings, or emperors – just Lords of Fire. Same with the Sages who followed them and learned the secrets of bending fire.

Until a couple generations before my day, each island or little patch of Fire Nation land had powerful benders ruling it. The Fire Nation was only the mightiest among equals. That’s where the whole Agni Kai tradition and our emphasis on honor come from. The Fire Lord _earns_ their place by challenge, and maintains it by integrity. After some time, it became hereditary, but the Fire Lord's power shifted from lifetime to lifetime with the power of their bending or their political savvy. They didn’t become an absolute monarch until the days before Yangchen.”

Aang looked confused. “So what does this have to do with Zuko?”

Kyoshi took up the thread now. “Aang, balance isn’t a singular state. Both humans and spirits grow, learn, and change, spiraling upward or downward in the cycle of birth. Now that the world is re-learning wisdom from the past hidden by Sozin or lost in the war, what do you think they will do if they knew this? They've assumed, for at least a hundred years, that 'Agni's blessed' meant that the royal family ruled by divine right. You took Ozai's right to rule away when you took his bending, and Zuko beat the only other living heir in Agni Kai. What happens if Zuko throws out custom, throws out the power of his birth, when this knowledge comes to light?”

Aang’s eyes went wide. “Azula’s wounded Zuko before. Any governor or noble who can bend fire would declare Agni Kai.”

Kyoshi nodded. “For as long as Zuko drew breath.”

Roku spread his hands. “But Sozin and Azulon emphasized birth _and_ bending as the keys to legitimacy. Any candidate for Fire Lord had to not only be a powerful bender, but a true-born descendant of the Sun, even though the Sun isn’t the only fire in our world. Sozin couldn’t have a child with me, and Ta Min was never more than a dear friend to him. So...”

Aang nodded. He understood. “Zuko needs a Fire Nation wife to satisfy the nobles’ understanding of that, or else we’ll have civil war for the next century.”

Kyoshi leaned back, her point made. “And it doesn’t hurt that his wife is not only noble-born, a blooded fighter, and a true friend to the Avatar. And spinning it as a betrothal gift was clever. Rangi always said that turning down a gift from your intended would make them lose face, and was seen as – ”

“A terrible dishonor, which could only be wiped out by blood or fire,” Aang finished the formula that duelling firebenders seemed to love. He thought back to Kyoshi’s previous sentence. “Wait. Friend?”

Roku nodded. “We don’t see everything from here, but search your feelings. Has she given you reason for grief since Ozai?”

Aang wracked his brain. _No, not really._ Mai had been happy to see him every time he’d passed through. They’d meditated together, and Aang had helped her with target practice. They’d never talked about Zuko, but that was to be expected. They weren’t sure how to define the relationship, and it wasn’t like Mai didn’t have that on-again, off-again thing with Kei Lo. They were close, but not _close_?

And yet, Mai had to know everything about what the three of them had got up to – and had never said a word. Aang resented her for having Zuko, but she never _fought_ them for her. She had never even suggested she would...

“Roku,” Aang asked delicately, “what are the Fire Nation's responsibilities on...fidelity?”

Roku and Kyoshi looked at each other, smiling. “I told you he’d get there,” Roku said.

“Hey!” Aang huffed. _Did his past lives gossip about him?_

Kyoshi spoke again, “No, but we can see what’s going on in your heart, and it took you long enough to ask. Rangi and I wed, but both took other lovers. Highborn firebenders could see who they wanted, provided their parents approved. We knew where home was, no matters who we went to." Aang colored; he remembered seeing some of Rangi and Kyoshi's letters at the libraries in Yokoya Port, and Kyoshi's _waka_ to a handsome Earth Kingdom bandit.   
  
“Ta Min and I had nobody else but Sozin for all our lives, but provided there’s no potential for bastardy or dissension, both spouses – particularly husbands in my day, but certainly any spouse with the approval of their partner – may do as they please. We can't control where and how our fires burn. We can only make sure they keep our homes warm, rather than burning them down.

It's likely that Sozin took no lovers to affirm his place as Father of the Nation, and his sons and grandsons followed his example out of love or love of power.”

Aang considered. Neither Ozai or Iroh had ever remarried, and Iroh was a gallant in most senses of the word. Aang's head swam.

 _As they please_.

“Do...do you think that Zuko might – might still want us?”  
  
Roku shook his head indulgently. “I won’t speak for my great-grandson. And Kyoshi and Rangi talked everything out." Kyoshi nodded to Roku in thanks. "You’d better get together with them and find out.”

Aang jumped up, “I’ve got to tell Katara, we have to go back –”

Kyoshi and Roku laughed, the cultured tones of a Fire Nation aristocrat and the booming laugh of an Earth Kingdom _daofei_ in near-perfect harmony. “Maybe when you wake up!”  
  
Aang, startled, said, “Wha – ”

He came to, sprawled out on a rock, Momo chittering above him. _A dream. They came in a dream._

Aang sat up, the stars and a waning moon looking down through the needles of the pine. “Hey, Momo.” Aang yawned stretching out sore shoulders and feeling the crisp, cold breeze coming from the South. He looked down his path back to the clearing as Momo landed on his shoulder.

When he got there, Appa was sound asleep, a mass of brown and white rising and falling on the grass. Aang unrolled his bedroll, lying down next Appa’s warm flank, the bison a break against the winter wind. “Sorry I took so long.”  
  
Appa grunted quietly, acknowledging Aang’s apologies as the Avatar slipped back into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I understand it, May is Zutara Month (happy happy!) and I have Strong Feelings about Zutara being a fully developed relationship within the triad, so you'll see a fair bit of them here.
> 
> That said, Aang is a critical part of both of their stories. Here he is thinking through what that part might look like.


End file.
